


No homo

by Jang_Hanae



Category: Football RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, I could not NOT write about them, M/M, psg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-06-19 14:17:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15511671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jang_Hanae/pseuds/Jang_Hanae
Summary: « Julian I don't want to have to scream at you but everybody can see that something's wrong. No need to say that the whole team is suffering from this. You play like shit on the field and so does Pres. Keep acting like that and the coach will bench you without even thinking about it. »





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally writing it. I've had this idea a long time ago, but my studies were taking too much time. But now I'm free!  
> So I write for this fandom that definitely needs more writers. Hope some will be inspired! 
> 
> As always, many thanks for my dear beta Sky ( tumblr [here](http://liliumbreath.tumblr.com) ). She spends so much time correcting me and explaining me my mistakes I can only be grateful! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy that first part!

Julian had never liked being jealous. He hated the feeling, hated how it made his stomach twist in a mix of anger and sadness. He hated the frown he couldn't keep off his face. And he also hated how everyone could read him at that moment; like the smallest glance was enough to understand how pathetic he was feeling. Consequently, he hated how Kevin was looking at him right now, a sympathetic smile plastered on his lips. Julian ignored him. Deep inside, he hoped his German teammate wasn't able to find what had put him in that state. He could barely understand it himself.

He cast another glance to the front of the bus, where most of his teammates were currently agglutinating around a sullen Kylian, who was hiding his ears behind his hands. Julian could easily guess he had just lost one of their numerous Mario Cart races. Given how enthusiast the young French player always was to give his friends' ears the punishment that came with the defeat, there was no escape.

But Kylian was the last of his worries. His damnation looked more like Presnel Kimpembe and Alphonse Areola, arm in arm, bent over in laughter in the seat opposite from Kylian's. Julian couldn't even see how close they were, but Presnel's head was pressed against his friend's and it was already too much. 

Julian looked away.

It always felt the same, a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. 

The feeling was there while watching Kimpembe's instastory during the international breaks, and seeing him enjoy every minute spent with the French national team. To him, Kimpembe's dances were better in the PSG's lockeroom anyway. Not with Mendy or Matuidi. Not with Thauvin and Pogba, always near him when he started playing one of his famous playlists.

He also felt it when he wasn't the one sharing Presnel's time during the doping control, and having to bear the sight of him coming back with his arms around Gio or Marco -or any other member of the team that wasn't him-.

Julian bit his inferior lips in anger and squirmed in his seat. He realized with a great annoyment that Kevin was still watching him, looking like he knew exactly what he was thinking.  

Right now, Julian wanted nothing more than to tear his pretty smile off his lips.

 

* * *

 

Neymar and Dani were good at throwing parties. The smallest excuse was enough for them to invite all the team over, to buy too much food and definitely too much alcohol. It was not like any of them could drink more than one glass without their new coach mysteriously learning about it and giving them the most frightening glare once back at the training center. Outside of holidays, they usually stuck to fruits juices or two glasses of champagne if they were feeling bold enough.

Tonight, however, Julian was too deep in his inner world to realize he was already drinking his sixth beer. He was feeling tipsy. Not enough to do crazy things but definitely enough to dwell on his misery. He had no idea of what was happening around him, despite being sat between his captain and the team's first goalkeeper. He had stopped listening to Thiago and Kevin a long time ago and hadn't even realized they had switched from French to Portuguese. The last thing he remembered was them talking about their previous holidays in Brazil.

A long howl made him look up from his beer to what seemed to be the dance floor. Anywhere was a good place for Dani to dance, anyway. Neymar was blocking most of his view, agitating his thin limbs in front of him. Behind him, Kimpembe had thrown one of his arms around the shoulders of Gio and was forcing him to dance, making him move to one of Naza's last songs. His smile was back on his full lips, and he was making happy noises every time the young Argentinian moved accordingly to his advice. Around them, half of the players were laughing, dancing on their own or with their girlfriends.

Squeezed between Kevin and Thiago, who were talking louder and louder without noticing his misery, Julian was hit for the very first time by what seemed to be an overwhelming affection for Presnel. Or maybe was it the first time he truly realized it? He knew the feeling well enough for it to be the first time. His glassy eyes fixed themselves on the tall man, dead to the rest of the world.

He had always known he liked the man, but not that much. Jealousy was back in his stomach, making him want to throw up. He had never understood that all the jealousy he was feeling was due to some kind of feelings for his French teammate. His head was spinning at the realization. How could he not have understood that earlier, he had no idea. His mixed feeling toward Presnel appeared obviously in front of him. 

He had no idea what to do with it.

He got up suddenly, surprising both of his teammates who stopped their conversation immediately. A vivid pain spiked his head from side to side, almost enough to force him to sit back down. He felt too drunk for the loud music and looked for an escape, a door, anything. On his right, the open bay window leading to the garden seemed like the best option. He left his beer on the low table in front of him. He almost tripped on Thiago's feet but the defender was fast enough to catch his arm and avoid him to smash his skull on the floor.

Julian immediately looked in Presnel's direction.

Two black pupils were fixed on him. Kimpembe had stopped dancing and was looking at him worryingly. Julian wanted to dig a hole and never come out again. He used Thiago's knee as a leverage to stand back on his feet. He felt humiliated and his cheeks were probably of a bright red.

 

« Julian.. ? »

 

He ignored Kevin's worried voice and tried to step forward. Thiago let go of his arm reluctantly. He wanted to run to get out of this room, but he doubted his own physical capacities. Everything was too bright.

He sensed Kevin following him for the first meters but lost track of his voice once he stepped outside.

Julian took a long breath of fresh air. He immediately felt a bit better. He forced himself to go down the stairs and onto the grass. He had the time to walk away from the house before his legs decided to give up under him. He fell on the ground with a thud and winced as he felt the pain on his bottom. He let himself fall back on the grass.

The stars were shining lights in the dark sky, assuring the players a bright day the next morning. Given how he was feeling, he was pretty sure the best part of the day would be consumed by his hangover. This thought made his stomach twist and he rolled over, ready to puke. He waited a bit in this position, not worried for a bit about how pissed Neymar would be in the morning.

Without warning, Julian felt a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing lightly. The warmth of another skin on his own made him feel a bit better.

 

« You okay babe? »

 

He should have expected it.

Kimpembe didn't sound as worried as Kevin had been. Julian could feel the warmth radiating from his friend's body on his right flank, as a hand slid from his arm to his shoulder. The feeling eased something in his stomach and the need to barf stopped. Julian leaned enough so that his forehead touched his forearm. Kimpembe was still squeezing his neck.

 

« You scared us. »

« Sorry. »

 

Presnel laughed lightly, and Julian felt him sit next to him. He didn't dare to look up yet.

 

« Don't worry. It was kind of funny to see Kevin so frightened. He's not the most expressive. I told him to go back to the party. I'm sure he would have stressed you more than anything. »

 

Julian hummed in approval. He finally found the courage to detach his head from the ground and cast a glance to Presnel. The latter was staring right back at him, a smile on his lips. Julian felt his cheeks burn. He swallowed heavily and tried to go back to a more respectable position. Presnel helped him sit back.

They stayed silent for some time. The music coming from the house was loud enough to create a cool atmosphere.

 

« So, what's happening? »

 

Julian bit his lips. Of course, Presnel would have felt something too.

 

« Nothing. »

« Oh, come on babe. I've known you for almost two years. I can tell when something's not right. I mean, don't take it the wrong way, but you're pretty easy to read. »

 

« How easy ? » was what Julian wanted to ask. « Have you spotted how much I liked you before I did ? » was what was burning on his tongue. But he swallowed his curiosity. He had no idea of what was going on in his own head, no need to inform Presnel of that.

 

« Nothing. I just didn't feel good. Guess I was away from my family for too long. Sorry for worrying you. »

 

The lie felt thick on his tongue. He had been away from his family for a long time, that was true. But the whole team knew that his parents would come more than willingly to Paris if their son asked them to. This family excuse was a bad one, and Kimpembe was clearly not buying it.

 

« You know, that's okay if you don't want to speak about it. Just know that I'm here if you need me to. »

 

Julian didn't want to speak about it. Not really. He usually liked speaking about things he knew, things he understood. He had no idea what was happening with Presnel. His feelings toward his French teammate had evolved into something he had only discovered recently, something he was quite afraid to find out about. There was no way he was telling Presnel about it. If he was pretty sure that Presnel wouldn't mock him,

he could easily picture him taking his distances. And the thought alone made him want to throw up again.

He shook his head, not daring to meet Presnel's eyes. He could feel them though, steady on the side of his face, curious and nice.

What would it be like, anyway, to tell him? To explain to him how he was feeling, to know if Presnel's was feeling the same or if he was just playing? The idea seemed appetizing, tempting, especially for his drunk mind. Maybe Presnel would tell him everything he wanted to hear. That he was feeling that same jealousy when Julian was

spending too much time with Kevin. That his heart was doing some weird things when Julian smiled at him.

Julian looked at Presnel. He hadn't realized that he was so close.

It wasn't wrong, was it? To want to kiss a teammate that bad. It wouldn't mean a thing anyway. Maybe they would just laugh about it. It would stay a secret. Nobody needed to know.

There was something in Kimpembe's eyes. If Julian had been sober he'd say it was confusion. But his drunk mind was only seeing curiosity and hope. What if Presnel wanted to kiss him, too?

He leaned on.

His lips on Presnel's were like the answer to all the questions he had had until now. It felt right. Just, right. His heart was roaring loudly in his chest and his body wasn't answering anymore, frozen in desire.

It was probably nothing more than a peck, a kiss two primary school kids would share behind a tree in their schoolyard, but to Julian, it was enough.

He moved his closed lips a few more times against his French teammate's and moved back. When he opened his eyes, he didn't know what to expect, or what to hope for. Shocked and scared wide-open eyes were at the bottom of the list. He froze.

Kimpembe hadn't moved a bit. Not before the kiss, not during the kiss, and definitely not after. Julian's lips were still burning, but Kimpembe's ones were slightly open, no word coming out of his throat. His eyes were not warm. His mouth didn't stretch into a smile.

A vivid wave of shame broke on Julian. His stomach twisted painfully. He was sweating, too hot, too cold. His heart was missing in the middle of his chest. He wanted to cry.

Presnel opened his mouth, but Julian didn't want to hear anything of what he was thinking. Presnel was going to reject him and Julian wouldn't be able to deal with it. What if the whole team knew about that? What about their fans?

 

« Juli- »

« Julian? Presnel? »

 

Kevin's voice broke the heavy moment. Julian was on his feet before he could even realize. He ran to his German teammate, took his arm and lead him to the house. Behind him, Presnel hadn't moved.

 

* * *

 

The day after the kiss, Julian wasn't able to look at himself in a mirror. His stomach felt worst than the day before, his head was spinning, not letting him a moment to rest. Every time he felt a bit better, an intense shame settled in his belly.

His phone kept ringing all day. It only stopped in the evening. Whoever wanted to talk to him had given up. Julian didn't dare to look at the screen.

 

* * *

 

Ignoring Presnel's messages was painfully easy. Ignoring the man himself was something else entirely.

When stepping into the training center, Julian was decided not to approach his French teammate. He was sure Presnel wouldn't like to speak to him anyway, after what he had done. He kept his head low, hiding behind Alphonse's back when he entered the locker room.

Much to his horror, Presnel was already here. He stopped talking to Christopher when he spotted Julian. The German looked away and hurried himself to the opposite corner of the room. He sat between Kevin and Thomas, ignoring their surprised stares, and got changed. He was the first one to reach the football field and did everything in his power to stay away from the French man.

Despite ignoring him, Julian was hyper-aware of each and every movement of Presnel. Julian did his utmost to maintain a five-meters distance between them during the training. He missed half of the explanations of Tüchel, earned comments from his partners and the fitness trainers didn't stop themselves from looking balefully at him. Even Kevin asked if he was okay.

Again, he was the first one to go back to the locker room, hurrying himself to slip under the burning spray of the shower. He waited until he was sure all the team was in the stalls as well and headed out. He froze at the door.

Presnel was standing next to his belongings, checking his jacket without daring touching. That alone was a clear sign that something was wrong. If Presnel wanted something, he would try it right away, without asking for any agreement. He turned to face Julian when he heard him gasp.

The two men stared at each other. Julian didn't dare to move. He felt naked, only protected by a towel around his waist, while Presnel was still wearing his training kit. The German knew he had to put on clothes now and stop acting as if something terrible had happened. It was just a kiss.

His heart squeezed at the thought.

The moment lingered, and Julian could feel his mouth go drier and drier. The silence was too heavy for him, and he felt the shame settle back him his stomach. Suddenly he wasn't that successful 24-years-old football player anymore, but a teenage boy ashamed of his desires and his actions.

Julian felt his eyes widen and his heart stop when Presnel opened his mouth.

 

« Julian- »

« GET OUT OF THE WAY FOR THE MAGNIFICENT DANI ALVES. »

The moment broke when Dani entered the locker room, as naked as a newborn could be, Neymar laughing his head off behind him. Julian took the opportunity to take his clothes and hurry far away from Presnel, under the powerless eyes of the latter. He dressed as fast as he could and ran out of the complex.

 

* * *

 

Presnel did try many times to speak to him. It was getting harder and harder to ignore him without raising the attention of his teammates. Or worse, of his coach.

Had he been more mature, he would probably have spoken to Presnel, facing him like an adult would. But the memory of the kiss was still awfully vivid in his mind, and the rejection even more.

Without knowing what was the reason, the team was starting to suspect something. Presnel wasn't the mocking duffer he had been since the beginning of the season. He looked even more tired than sad. Even the jokes of Dani and Neymar combined weren't able to cheer him up. Julian felt bad every time Adrien and Presnel would arrive together at training, knowing that the former would have tried to make him laugh more than 10 seconds straight for the entire ride. He had thought that ignoring Presnel would be the perfect way for both of them to forget about what happened, but every minute spent without hearing Presnel's laugh was like a dagger into his gut, reminding him of what had put them here.

Thiago trapped him right before he entered the shower. He took him by the arm, pulled him for about ten meters and stopped abruptly when he reckoned no one would hear them.

Julian had never felt smaller. His captain's angry eyes were glowing under the neons of the corridor. Thiago was smaller than him, but he was showing out the muscles in his shoulders, trying to make himself look heavier and taller than he already was. If Julian was honest enough, he would have admitted that it was working extremely well. His tongue was burning to let Thiago know that intimidating a fellow player wasn't the best way to get what he wanted, but he kept his words for himself, not daring to say anything.

 

« So. What happened? »

 

Julian considered lying.

 

« I don't know what- »

« Oh, stop the bullshit, Julian. You were always together and now you won't even look at him! Do you really think I couldn't tell? Everybody can! »

 

Julian swallowed heavily, looking down where his white skin met the sweet fabric of his towel.

 

« Julian I don't want to have to scream at you but everybody can see that something's wrong. No need to say that the whole team is suffering from this. You play like shit on the field and so does Pres. Keep acting like that and the coach will bench you without even thinking about it. »

 

Julian nodded miserably. Thiago offered him a sympathetic smile, patted his arm and finally walked away. The German stood in the corridor for a while, frozen on his spot, trying to get control over his sadness. He fled when one of the fitness trainers appeared at the end of the hall.

The only memory he had of his shower was as smoky as his mind. He stepped out after everyone else and got dressed slowly. The hot water had drowned out of him the last residual of energy the training and the pep talk of Thiago hadn't already consumed. He was so tired he didn't even react when Kevin took him by the shoulders outside of the center and made him climb into his car. His elder waited to be outside of the parking lot to start talking.

 

« You know- »

« If you're going to talk me about Kim- my inappropriate behavior to this team, know that Thiago already did. »

 

Kevin's deep laugh filled the car.

 

« I'm sure he did. But he did it as a captain, didn't he? »

 

The silence settled in the car. Julian realized Kevin was expecting an answer when he met his eyes, switching between him and the road. He grumbled.

 

« That's what I thought. I wanted to do it as a friend. As your friend. Of both of you. »

 

New silence.

 

« I know that something happened at Ney's party. You were acting so weirdly back then. I didn't see it but it's not hard to guess... I mean that no matter what happened there, you need to speak to Pres again. »

« He won't talk to me. »

« From what I saw you're the one who doesn't want to speak to him. »

 

Julian fell silent again. They were getting closer and closer to his house. Luckily enough, they would get there before Kevin could force him into anything.

 

« Julian, I mean it. Talk to him, send him a message. I'm sure he'll do anything to even talk with you again. Hey, Julian are you even listening to me? »

« Hm Hm. »

Julian only heard Kevin's deep sigh before the goalkeeper grabbed his phone and got back in his seat. Julian jumped on him almost immediately. But Kevin was wilder, stronger and taller, and kept him far from his phone. They didn't see the traffic light go green. Behind them, the car horns got louder and louder. They didn't stop fighting.

Kevin sent him back suddenly in his seat and let go of his phone, a small smile on his lips. Julian could only stare at the screen with horror.

 

« I hate you. Let me out. »

« Don't be even more stupid than you already are. You'll thank me later. »

 

The message was the first one he had sent to Presnel in a week. « Can we talk? »

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -I don’t know how many person you think you’re fooling Julian. But I’m not one of them. And be sure that Presnel isn’t, either. From what I see, he’s trying really hard to get to you but you shut him down every. Single. Time. The moment will come when he’ll stop trying, you know that ? »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second part! Again, all the thanks goes to my wonderful wife and beta Sky ( tumblr [here](http://liliumbreath.tumblr.com) ) for her work. 
> 
> Hope you'll like it!

Presnel's answer had been almost immediate, and it had earned Julian an intent look from Kevin. One of those which would grant Julian comments from his German teammate in the next months. Julian and Presnel had agreed to meet in a quiet café near Julian's flat.

 

Leaving his home, Julian was as nervous as before signing his first profesionnal contract. The dark rings under his eyes made him look more tired than he felt, and he could have sworn his skin tone was turning yellow. No need to be an expert to know he was miserable.

He walked slowly and arrived at the café five minutes in advance, despite dragging his feet. His heart missed a bit when he realized Presnel was already here, almost hidden in the back of the establishment. Julian almost gave up and ran away, but he was seated in front of Presnel before he could act. He didn't dare meeting his eyes.

 

They stayed silent until a waiter came for their order – a coffee, black, for Julian – and left again.

The silent was thick and hurting when his drink was presented to him.

Julian knew he should be the one speaking. He was the one who had ignored Presnel for the past week, and he was also the one who had sent the message. And the one who had kissed Kimpembe in the first place.

His throat was as dry as a desert.

 

« I'm sorry. »

 

The words should have been said a long time ago, but they still felt good, like a delivrance . They hung between them. The French man remained quiet, and it forced Julian to finally look up.

 

Presnel was smiling at him, with that kind of smile that revealed his gum and made Julian's heart melt. Kimpembe's plump lips were stretched around his teeth. His smile was reaching his eyes, making him glow in the small café, his empty coffee cup in front of him. Julian felt his own grin blossoming on his lips without his consent.

 

« It's the first time you've talked to me in a week. »

 

Both of them laughed, like two kids reuniting after a fight. Julian wished Presnel said « I miss you ». But after what he had done, he couldn't hope for so much.

 

From that moment on, Presnel started to speak as if nothing had happened between them. He talked about that video he had seen yesterday, and how Marco had made a fun of himself by slipping in the shower. His smile didn't left him for once second. Julian let him speak, like the good old times. But Presnel wasn't fooling anybody. The kiss was like an elephant in the room. 

 

« Julian you _have_ to come with me and Kylian the next time we go to that restaurant. I've never have a better meal in my whole life, I swear ! »

  

Julian. Not « babe » anymore. The German had his smile frozen on his lips, but he could easily tell that his mask was falling appart. Presnel would be able to tell before the end of their meeting.

 

« And-Oh ! By the way, look at that ! This is Kayis ! You know him right, my son ? I brought him along once or twice at the Camp des Loges. Look at that video ! »

 

Julian attached his eyes to the screen but couldn't really see anything. His sadness was back again. Anything he could have hoped when kissing Presnel was ending here. Julian had never seen Presnel's girlfriend before. The French man had never invited her to any of their party. But he had a son. This small and smiling boy was the proof that a woman was already taking care of Presnel's life. No matter the nature of Julian’s feelings for Kimpembe, neither were they needed nor welcome.

 

« Julian ? You're alright ? »

 

Julian hadn't realised that Presnel had stopped speaking and that the video wasn't on replay anymore. He swallowed with difficulty, and bit his inferior lips. His right hand, the one that wasn't supporting his head, came to his neck, scratching it nervously. He could feel tears coming to his eyes but he wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry over a friend with whom he would never have a chance. Because it was what it was about, right ? He wanted to kiss Presnel again. He wanted Presnel to kiss him. The feeling that had been buzzing in his heart for so long was becoming more and more precise. And Julian wasn't sure if he was ready to aknowledge it yet.

 

He felt Presnel's hand resting on his shoulder, hesitating. Julian's front teeth, planted on his lips, was menacing to draw blood.

 

« You know Jule... if it's about the kiss.. »

« I shouldn’t have. »

 

They both froze. Julian couldn't stop his mouth. The words were already burning his lips and the need to take them back made him panick.

 

« I'm-I'm sorry. I was drunk and you were- you were too close ! And I couldn't think I'm sorry I shouldn't have. It was my fault and- »

« Julian. »

 

The tears weren't falling. They weren't. But Presnel had throw an arm around his shoulders anyway. Julian could have sworn his teammate was about to fall from his chair given how he was  drapped around him. The warmth radiating from his body was feeling good on his side. It was just enough to balance the sorrow in his belly.

 

« I didn’t know you’d react like that.I mean. It's not important. I don't care. »

 

But that was the thing, wasn't it ? Julian did care about that kiss.

 

« It was a mistake Julian- »

 

Was it ?

 

« -but I promise it meant nothing to me. I mean you're my brother, it's okay. You were so high. I'm sure Neymar and Dani kiss all the time anyway. »

 

It almost made the German laugh. He didn't recognize his own chocked and hoarse voice. Julian breathed deeply for ten long seconds, swallowing back his tears. Presnel was still squeezing his shoulder.

 

The world slowly reappeared around him. He hadn't realized how his senses had all focused on Kimpembe, erasing the café, the people around him, the smells and the sounds. He quickly glanced around them. The only couple in his field of view were quietly sipping their tea, oblivious to the two men hugging behind them.

 

Julian's eyes found his full cup of coffee, cold by now, and didn't let go. His teammate dragged his chair to sit next to him, their body touching in enough places to make Julian go crazy.

 

« Don't worry Jule. Everything can go back to normal now. »

 

 

* * *

 

 

Of course, nothing came back to normal. Or maybe things came back to normal for the whole world, but not for Julian. He couldn't erase that kiss out of his mind. He couldn't act like Kimpembe, as if nothing had happened between them. Everytime his French teammate stood close enough, the need of leaning toward him and kissing him right there was burning in his stomach.

 

As if this struggle wasn't enough, Julian was now aware of something else. He knew why his jealousy was spreading in his belly. He knew why he couldn't stand to see Presnel and someone else hugging and laughing. If he couldn't say it out loud yet, he had identified the feeling. And he had cried over it already.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Julian arrived late that day at the training center. He parked his car, noticing that Neymar and Cavani’s cars were still nowhere to be seen, and hurried inside the building. He purposefully ignored Tuchel’s glare and sat between his fellow countryman and Layvin, who greeted him with a bright smile and an elbow in his ribs. Julian gulped his breakfast to hurry after the rest of the team inside the locker room.

His second egg wasn’t yet settled in his stomach when Presnel decided to jump on his back. He spend the next ten minutes trying to catch his breath and his meal. It finally earned him a vicious comment from their coach who was apparently waiting for that precise moment since his late arrival. Presnel mouthed « sorry » when the German coach looked away. No matter the reason, his stomach clenched under Presnel’s look anyway.

His only comfort was that when Neymar and Cavani finally stepped on the pitch, easily ten minutes after the start of the training, they got extra exercises too.

 

The training went smoothly. The team was getting better and better on the pitch. There was a confidence that had never been there before. Was it the French World Wup title, or the new recruits, or the fact that the big Spanish teams were splitting up,  but the players seemed to trust themselves enough to finally go get that Champion’s league cup.

Maybe Julian had find his perfect team exactly like Presnel had, many years ago.

 

He was smiling when going back to the locker room, talking with the cameraman following him down the corridor.

 

He heard Neymar’s laugh before entering the room. The Brazilian had traped Kylian below him, on the floor, and was taking pictures of him while giggling loudly. The young prodigy was unsuccessfuly trying to run away. Neymar started talking with a broken mix of French and Portuguese – Julian didn’t understand any of it, so he was farely sure that Kylian hadn’t either – and Kylian was answering him with a doubtful English. The scene was funny enought not to notice Presnel entering behind him, the latter keeping Giovani safely flushed against him

He did notice though when they passed before him. Presnel blinked at him. Julian didn’t have the time to react. Presnel kept his body pressed against the young Argentinian. Julian threw a blatant glare at the duo. Jealousy was already back in his stomach.

 

He sat down heavily next to his stuff. He was going for his shower products when Kevin caught his wrist.

 

« Is everything okay ? »

«  Yes. »

 

He shoved Kevin off and get up, not bothering to check if the goalkeeper was following him. Of course he was.

 

« I don’t undersant Julian, I thought everything was back to normal with Presnel ? »

« No it isn’t and- why is this about Pres anyway ? Can’t I be annoyed for no reason once in a while ? Get off me Kevin. »

« Oh please. I wouldn’t even believe you if you were not treating Gio as the worst thing on Earth but- Wait. You are. »

« Give me a break. »

« You’re going to tell Presnel that too ? »

 

Julian was about to shut the door of his shower. He stopped in his movement.

 

« I don’t know how many person you think you’re fooling Julian. But I’m not one of them. And be sure that Presnel isn’t, either. From what I see, he’s trying really hard to get to you but you shut him down every. Single. Time. The moment will come when he’ll stop trying, you know that ? »

 

Julian knew. He shut his door in front of Kevin and got below the hot water. He didn’t stay there for a long time because when he returned to the locker room, Neymar and Kylian were speaking playfuly in a corner of the room, and Presnel still hadn’t let go of Giovani. Julian decided not glance in their direction.

 

« Hey listen up ! You’re all up to a party after the Saturday’s match ? »

 

No other word than party could make Dani and Neymar react so vividly.They screamed happily at Presnel’s words.

 

Julian started hurrying to gather his belongings. He knew that Presnel was going to come ask for his approval next. But right now, with Kevin’s words still burning in his mind and Gio’s smile still bright on the Argentinian’s face, he was too pissed off to answer him calmly. He could already sense Presnel approaching. He took the last items in his hands – he was acting like a child.

Kevin was right. Presnel had done nothing to him. From the beggining, Julian was the only one to blame. And the time would come when Presnel would get tired and would just stop coming to him.

 

« Jule- »

 

The German got out of the locker room before Presnel could grab his arm. He almost ran down the corridor. The exit suddenly seemed too far away. The closer he was getting, the more his stomach twisted awfully. His breath was coming out in short puffs.

 

His arm was painfully grabbed right before he managed to reach the last corner. Presnel pushed him in the closest room, and closed the door behind him. It was a tiny storeroom, full of brooms and clean products.

In front of him, Presnel was looking positively angry.

 

« What the fuck Julian ?

 

Julian swallowed loudly. His throat was too dry for him to speak. What could he have said anyway ?

 

« What the fuck ? Why are you behaving like this ? I don’t get it ! You’ve been insufferable out of the pitch for the past week. With me, I mean. What did I do ? »

 

Julian opened his mouth one, two, three times, closing it every time because the words just wouldn’t come out. What could he have said anyway ? « Hey Pres, sorry for treating you like shit for the past week. I like you so much I can’t think straight. » And then, what ? « Remember that kiss ? Well, I’d like to kiss you again. Many times. On every place of your body I can reach. »

That simple thought made him sick again.

 

« Is that about our chat in the café ? What did you want me to say ? »

 

This hurt so bad. « I want you to call me babe again. I want you to mean it. »

 

« Is it about the kiss ? Jule, is that the reason ? »

 

God, Julian has never felt more gay in his life. And it’s not like it had never happened before. But he had never done a thing about it. It was not like he could have anyway. You don’t kiss your teammate when you’re a rising football star. You kiss the pretty girls and act like you like it.

Presnel had come closer, and Julian hadn’t realized. The French man was standing close enough to take his head between his hand and squeeze reassuringly.

 

« You have to talk to me Jule. I don’t know what I did wrong, but you have to tell me. I’m no medium. I can’t guess if you don’t talk. »

« You did nothing wrong- it’s- »

« Yes ? What ? It’s what ? »

 

Presnel’s eyes were pleading. His face was too close. His mouth was too close. Julian would have laugh if he could have. Things were meant to repeat themselves, weren’t they ? Because it felt exactly like the first time.

 

He leaned on.

 

Their lips collapsed before Presnel could make any sound.

This time, Julian’s mind wasn’t blurred by the alcohol. He could feel everything. Presnel’s nose against his own, his friend’s full lips while his were way thinner. His heart was busting in his chest. He was feeling warm, incredibly warm. He didn’t dare moving for two long seconds. It was probably the last time he’d be allowed to do this. He wanted to appreciate it. He let go a long breath before moving back.

 

But Presnel’s hands on his head didn’t move. On the contrary, they kept him close, stroking his hair gently. Julian was so surprised that his lips opened in a tiny sound. Presnel’s mouth closed over it shyly. The German’s hand flew to his waist, gripping his t-shirt.

 

The lips moving slowly against his owns were feeling to good to be true. Presnel was feeling to good to be true. It wasn’t even a full French kiss, just two mouths sliding against one another. But Julian was already too hot, his head light and his desire roaring in his lower belly.

 

The two men kept kissing chastely for a long minute, before stepping back. Their eyes opened with difficulty, adapting to the bright room light after what had seemed be an eternity in the dark. They stared at each other without speaking. Presnel reluctantly let go of Julian’s head, taking another step back. He didn’t look as shocked as Julian would have expected. But the German could easily tell that he hadn’t anticipated that.

 

« Julian- Julian, what was that ? »

 

The question seemed so absurd that Julian couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He stopped immediatly when realizing he was doing it.

 

« I don’t know. »

 

The silence stretched between them. Once again, it was Dany’s voice in the corridor which breaked it. Once again, Julian flew away. He ran for the door.

 

« I don’t know. I’m sorry. »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I KNOW this chap is shorter than the first one. Sorry.
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave a comment! 
> 
> PS : Ever wanted to write about Pres/Jule ? DO IT. I NEED MORE FANFICS. Please :)

**Author's Note:**

> Any comment ? :) 
> 
> Don't hesitate to help me improve my English writing! 
> 
> I'm currently writing the second part but I can't say when it will be posted. It should be shorter than the first part. I hope I'll be able to post it before a month ahah!


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